This blog started as a place to post information about my book, The Seamstress of Jamestown. I soon realized that the heroine saw life as an adventure. So do I! Not just the wild things, but many of the every day things.

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Don't give up, you young folks! I have a new exciting career which
started at 60. :) If you are frustrated: in a boring job or buried under
piles of laundry, be encouraged. Those are great times which you will
look back on as the good ole days - honestly. But exciting things can lie ahead
also - totally different adventures. I never thought I would write
anything, and here I am with a novel! God has much better plans for our
lives than we could ever devise. Listen to Him, follow in His
footsteps, and your life will never be boring!

Yesterday I was interviewed by Jackie B. Peterson of Better Smarter Richer for Solo Pro Radio. It was my first interview. Jackie was so pleasant that it was like having a conversation with an old friend. You can hear the interview by going to www.soloproradio.com

The Seamstress of Jamestown was written to be a pleasant story with a few twists and turns. It can be read for mere entertainment. However, if you pay attention you will find some good life lessons. Emma Randall learns about forgiveness and then a deeper level of forgiveness than most people ever reach. She also matures through being willing to change her opinions about people as she learns more truth about them. And, like all of us, she has to accept sad events in her life along with the joyful ones. The same is true of life in general: if you pay attention, you will learn as you go, growing better and more complete each day.

Friday, August 16, 2013

Paperback: The paperback version of The Seamstress of Jamestown is now available through the publisher. The list price is $18.99, but you can buy it at www.winepressbooks.com for $13.86. By the end of August, it will be available at many other sites.E-book: The Kindle & Nook versions should be available by late August.

Description: From an extremely young age, Emma Randall has been fascinated by stories
of the Wild West and the California Gold Rush. The daughter of an
aristocratic family in mid-nineteenth century Baltimore, Emma feels
disconnected with the social life of Baltimore society and without
direction … until she makes the radical decision to go West on her own,
leaving everything and everyone she knows behind.

Emma secretly convinces her family’s servants to teach her to cook, take
care of livestock, and perform other skills she deems necessary for
life in the unpredictable West. At the young age of twenty-one, when she
can no longer stand the frivolous focus of Baltimore society, Emma
boards a train to the great unknown adventure awaiting her in the
California West.

Excerpt:
Emma walked to the post office in
the afternoon and once again passed the slovenly figure of the girl in the ugly
dress on the porch of the Gold Bar Saloon. Emma had a little talk with herself.
She was moping about her own troubles, which were not so great. She had always
helped people. She came here to build her character. Maybe she could help this
girl. She could at least make her a nicer dress. On her way back she decided to
speak with the girl.

As she neared the woeful figure she
said, “Good afternoon.”

The girl did not even nod in
response. Emma wondered why she stood out there. If it were for the same reason
Emma sat on the velvet chair on the National Hotel porch—to enjoy the
scenery—then the effort was failing, for there was no joy in the girl’s face.
If it were to draw customers into the saloon, Emma could not imagine that would
be successful either. Emma halted and tried again. “Hello, my name is Emma
Randall. I recently arrived here from Baltimore. Have you been here long?”

The girl raised her eyes slowly,
without really lifting her head too far, and peered at Emma with her
greenish-blue eyes. “Two years.”

“Well,” said Emma, “I’ve been
noticing you out here in the afternoons and I thought perhaps we could help
each other.”

The girl feigned a laugh that
seemed more like a “Hmmmph” adding a shoulder shrug and not a genuine smile,
just one side of her mouth twitching upward.

“You see, I’m a seamstress in need
of employ. I thought perhaps I could make you a new dress. I am very aware of
the latest fashions. Then, when folks ask you where you got your new dress, you
could tell them I made it. This could bring me a goodly amount of business that
I desperately need.” Emma cringed at telling this shell of a person her needs
when she hadn’t confided in any of the kindly people she had met. But she was
quite sure that this girl would not accept charity, so Emma had to make it seem
that the waif would be doing the seamstress a favor.

Emma was met with a sideways
curious stare. “I got a dress.”

“Well, yes, but I’m sure any lady
would like a new one.” Calling her a lady was a stretch of the meaning, but
Emma did not have the vocabulary that would have provided a more suitable word.

“I ain’t gonna spend my money on
somepin’ I don’t need.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I wouldn’t charge
you, as you would be doing me a favor. But I would appreciate it if you could
pay for the fabric. But if you can’t, that’s all right.”

“I c’n. I got money.”

“Well, fine then. When might you be
free to join me to shop for the fabric?”

“Well, I guess I could be free now.
I dun have start work till two. Jus’ let me stop by the boardin’ house and git
my purse.”

Soon the two women headed down the
street to the general store. Emma questioned the girl and found out her name
was Abigail Elroy. At least that’s what Emma surmised from “Ab’gail.” Also, her
favorite color was blue. Emma studied her dress up close now. The bodice was
striped pink and brown satin with uneven, sloppy gathers at the top. The skirt
was a bright emerald green with a flounce, but her petticoat was hanging down a
few inches where it was ripped. How anyone could have even conceived of putting
such colors together she could not imagine. The entire dress simply did not fit
correctly. It was too tight around the midriff and too large in the bust line
so that it gaped a little right in the middle. “Do you mind if I ask where you
purchased the dress you are wearing?”

“Purchased? Huh! Mr. Simpson give
ita me when I come ta work fer ’im. I think it wuz some other girl had it afore
me.”

“Oh, I see,” said Emma. “Well, I
don’t think it suits you quite right. My specialty is proper fitting. So the
dress I make you will fit you like a glove.”

Abigail paused at the door to
Butterfield’s. Emma sensed that Abigail was not accustomed to entering places
with folks of propriety. “Come on, Abigail; let’s see if they have some
beautiful blue fabric.” They entered and Emma began examining the bolts of
material with her expert eye. She found a beautiful light blue satin with moiré
water markings. She wouldn’t have minded using this in a dress for herself. It
was exquisite. She held it up to Abigail, smiled and honestly said, “This
brings out the blue in your beautiful eyes. Do you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s real perty.”

“Well, I think we could use this
for either the bodice or the skirt, but not both. Let’s see what else we can
find that would go with it.” She soon found a satin with muted dark blue and
light blue stripes. The light blue was a perfect match for the other fabric.
“Oh, I think this would go well,” Emma explained. “We could use this for the
bodice and the other for the skirt with the stripes running vertically. Do you
like it?”

“Oh, yes!” Abigail exclaimed with
the first sparkle in her eyes Emma had seen.

Emma took the bolts to the counter
and ordered the amount of fabric she knew she would need based upon her
experience. As they had chosen the finest fabric in the store and needed much
due to the gathering, the total came to an exorbitant $5. Abigail was looking
at the candy counter, which gave Emma a chance to pull two coins from her
purse. “Abigail, I’m sorry. It has come to $3. Is that too much?” Abigail
gulped, reached into her purse and carefully counted out three silver dollars
and handed them to Emma.

The two walked back out into the
sunshine and Emma asked Abigail to accompany her to her room at the National
Hotel so she could get proper measurements. There were quite some sideways
glances from the other guests as the two women walked upstairs. Emma had
Abigail remove her dress, which she seemed very reticent to do. Emma was more
repulsed by the undergarments than the gaudy dress. They were dirty and smelly!
No wonder she had smelled cheap cologne. Emma held her breath and quickly took
the measurements she needed and wished she could throw her measuring tape away.
She felt it was contaminated with the plague. It was nearly two o’clock, so
Abigail hurried out and back to the saloon.

Now Emma had a true problem. How
would she make a dress for a saloon girl? Her modesty would not allow her to
make one quite as risqué as some of the girls wore, but she knew Abigail would
not be permitted to wear a dress down to her ankles and up to her neck.

Emma settled upon making a gathered
waistline with a full skirt, like most of the girls had, but made it come just
below the knees. The bodice she made fitted to Abigail’s still girlish shape
with the neckline cut low but not gaping open because it would fit correctly,
lying flat several inches below the collar bones. The wide neckline revealed
most of her shoulders, so plenty of skin was showing without being too
immodest. There were small puff sleeves that gave it a princess look without
being overly fluffy.

Emma truly was a seamstress and
decided to have this dress reflect her greatest precision and care. She also put
love into every stitch even though this was costing her money and she had
little regard for the recipient. It was one of those sacrifices Emma had become
accustomed to making throughout her life—mainly to forge her own character and
perhaps bring some little blessing to another. It took her a week of hard work
just to be ready for a fitting. She had only basted the dress together with
large stitches. She went by the saloon in the late morning, but Abigail wasn’t
in front. She went to the boarding house and asked for Abigail. She came
sloughing down the stairs as though Emma were a bother. This made Emma angry
after all of her hard work, but she did not show it. She asked Abigail to come
to her hotel for a fitting.

“Fittin’?”

“Yes, that is where you try the
dress on, which is only loosely stitched together. Then I will make any
necessary adjustments.”

The dress was beautiful and Emma
heard a little “Ahhh” creep out of Abigail.

While making a few adjustments and
pinning, Emma lectured “Now, Abigail, I am a perfectionist. If you are going to
model one of my creations you will have to do it properly. What makes or breaks
a dress are proper undergarments. You see how a strip of lace is hanging down
from your petticoat? And see how your camisole is clumping under the fitted
bodice? This won’t do. I will provide you with undergarments that suit this
dress and you must promise me you will wear them.”

A few days later Emma delivered the
dress and undergarments to her customer at the boarding house. At this rate
Emma would be broke in a year and have to go crawling home to Daddy.

The next afternoon Emma saw a
beautiful young woman standing in front of the Gold Bar Saloon in a lovely blue
dress, freshly coiffed hair and no undergarments showing. Emma stopped and
excitedly blurted out, “Oh, Abigail, you do look lovely. We did a good job
choosing the fabric. I’m glad you like blue. It is nice with your eyes. If you
ever want another dress, I’d love to see what you look like in green. I wonder
if that would bring out the green in your eyes.”

“Oh, Miss Emma, thank ya so much. I
feels like a princess.”

Emma guessed that poor Abigail had never before
felt like a princess.“Oh, you are very welcome. And remember, you have
done me a great favor also.” Emma decided the sparkle in Abigail’s eyes was
payment enough. Even if she failed in Jamestown, she would have brought one
bright day to one lonely, sad girl.

Follow Emma as her life weaves its way through the Minuet, murder, betrayal, lemonade and love, until she not only succeeds in Jamestown but becomes a blessing to her family, Abigail, and the entire town.

About Me

I grew up in Alhambra with aching lungs in the summer from the smog. I went to Catholic schools for 12 years in the days of the nuns wearing habits.They had EVERYTHING in their huge pockets including scissors and smelling salts. While raising my kids, I lived in a beautiful home with a view of the ocean. After getting a horse, I moved to Oregon to have room for him. Horses don't fit well on a cul-de-sac in Orange County.